


Mapped Emotions

by skeptique



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clubbing, Dual POV, Fluff, Getting Together, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Neville is the chosen one, No Second Wizarding War, and they were ROOMMATES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29380809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeptique/pseuds/skeptique
Summary: Harry knew it was a bad idea to lust after your friend and far worse, to want your roommate. Draco knew he was skirting the line of being platonic life partners and long-term pining.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 20
Kudos: 188





	Mapped Emotions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyemmaline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyemmaline/gifts).



> For Emma, who is my fandom twin, video call pal, a dear friend, the most insightful of betas, and a delight. I hope this is everything you like! 
> 
> (This is the same universe as chapter 8 of [In Every Universe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234658/) but you don't need to read that to read this, just read the tags. Different vibe, AU.)
> 
> Thank you to Charlotte_Stant for the beta! (have you read [her Drarry fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861914) yet?👀)

After Ginny dumped him, Harry found out that living with your ex after you've broken up might be generous but it was also a good way to make yourself miserable. Draco had offered his place, then they were flatmates and before they knew it, several years had passed. Harry and Draco were friends. At least, that’s what Harry tried to remind himself on a regular basis. Friendship. Platonic friendship.

They had only ever kissed twice.

Once in seventh year in a party at Room of Requirement. The gathering had been the kind of thing that was unofficially tolerated by professors. Something about cohort unity across houses. It was a tradition that was established after the Fall of Voldemort that had never gone away.

The kiss had been a dare and Draco had kissed him easy as anything, playing it up for the crowd until Pansy told them to knock it off. Suddenly confronted with a lap full of Draco Malfoy, Harry froze and let him sit there for an hour all the while knowing he was doing something wrong. Ginny had kissed Michael Corner too, but it wasn't the same. She wasn't Michael's friend in that way. Harry spent half his time outside class studying with Draco, or arguing with Draco or sometimes even napping with him.

That kiss was supposed to be for a laugh but a lot of his confusion coalesced into something bright, sharp and painfully clear. Harry wanted him. Even though, at the time, he was dating Ginny. Even though they were friends despite a Quidditch rivalry and a perfectly normal amount of sucker punches off the pitch between years one and three. Even though neither of their parents would like it and their friends barely tolerated each other. Even though, later they were roommates.

They were already friends against all odds.

The second time was at twenty-two, after Harry and Ginny's fourth and final breakup. a They were in a Muggle gay club. It was a regular hangout but this time, they didn’t split up. Usually Draco would dance and Harry would try to get drunk enough to think about dancing. Someone had approached Harry when Draco went to the toilets and he chatted politely, because the guy was decent looking, had bought him a drink and seemed normal.

Draco returned, narrow eyed, took one good look at the guy and said, "Fuck off." And because he was Draco Malfoy even with glitter on his face he hadn't come in with, the man listened and shuffled away into the crowd.

Draco leaned into him. He was running his hands possessively down Harry's arm. They were still standing by the bar, people's bodies pressed up against them, the air almost damp with sweat.

"Let's dance," Draco said. Harry should have protested. He had spent the entire Yule Ball standing on the wall in dress robes his mum bought him, laughing with Ron about how they had ended up with no dates. He had last danced at Sirius and Remus' wedding with one of his distant relatives when he was thirteen.

But Harry obediently came to the dance floor and did some two-stepping and finger pointing to the beat. There were only a couple inches between them and they kept getting knocked closer together.

"Not like that, like this," Draco said. And suddenly there was no space between them at all, and Draco wound his arms around Harry's neck. His face was buried in Harry's shoulder. Their dancing reminded Harry of sex in the point and counterpoint of it, although what they were doing was relatively sedate swaying. Even in this sensory mess of other people's cologne, body heat and third hand cigarette smoke, Harry could still pick out the sharp clean scent of him. He recognized it anywhere, it permeated their flat.

"I thought she would marry me, you know," Harry said after they had stumbled home. It was three in the morning and he was on the melancholy side of drunk, having gradually gotten more sober at the chippy.

"Look at me. You'll find someone. You will," Draco said with the painful sincerity of someone who had been drinking since early evening. Draco cupped one hand on his cheek.

"I just can't imagine, like, ever trying all of that again with someone other than Ginny," Harry confessed. “Like, I can’t imagine even kissing someone else at this point.” Then in their kitchen, Draco had leaned in and kissed him, soft and slow and before Harry's brain could catch up, it was over.

"There. Now you've kissed someone else. You're free."

Draco pretended the kissing never happened the next morning so Harry did too. Draco still brought people home, so Harry did too, and let Draco tease him about it.

“I think you have a thing for blonds,” Draco declared as the front door slammed shut on...Ethan? Ewan? Aaron?

“Do not,” Harry mumbled. He wasn’t so far gone that it was on purpose, he thought.

There were other things to occupy him anyway: Harry's apprenticeship with Ollivander, trying to get his parents to believe that he was actually bisexual and not just too shy to tell them he was gay despite their acquaintance with one Remus Lupin, whether Puddlemere would take the Cup, why Draco always finished the milk but never went to Tesco on his way home, whether Neville was actually okay or just faking it, and when he would feel like a real adult.

Despite all this, nothing else ever came close to the way it felt to kiss Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Draco turned into a whirlwind any time he left the house. He was absent-minded at the best of times and under pressure when he was called in for an emergency, he flapped around the house convinced he had forgotten something.

“Draco. I’ve got your mug. And your badge is on the hook.”

“Where are my clinical shoes?” There was a bang from his bedroom, and Harry resisted the urge to tell him that he was a wizard.

“I packed them in your work bag,” Harry said.

“Oh. You’re coming tonight, right?” Draco said. He was re-checking his pockets.

“Yes, I’ll be at your mandatory event in the clothes you picked out. You need to Floo to work,” Harry said. Then he noticed a little piece of fluff, in his hair and leaned in to pick it out.

“See you!" Draco called as he stepped into the flames.

“You keep telling me you're not together, but that seems pretty together,” Hermione said. Harry had completely forgotten she was here.

"It's not like that. He's my friend. Like you're my friend," Harry said.

"You don't look at me like you want to tenderly dry hump my leg," Hermione said primly. "Or Ron. Or Luna. Or Neville."

“Hmmm, maybe Nev?” Harry said, with a slight bite of sarcasm.

"Neville's too good for you and you know it," Hermione said.

"Have you seen him lately?"

"He's around, but you know how he is," Hermione said.

"I keep wanting to ask him if he likes the new wand? I mean, Ollivander didn’t approve of me using vine as the core of a black walnut wand, but I thought it fit for him."

"I'm sure he likes it fine," Hermione reassured. "Better than the old one in any case."

* * *

It was just more convenient for Draco to have Harry than another date at these galas, even when it pissed off people they were dating. Harry knew what to say without prompting, he held his liquor well and he was charming. Donors loved him.

And if he looked _very_ good in emerald dress robes and black patent leather dress shoes that Draco picked out, that was just a bonus. Draco could look, respectfully. Look and don't touch had always been his rule for Harry in terms of his overall feelings and it had worked so far.

All right, fine, Draco wasn't doing so well on the not touching part. It was so much easier to redirect Harry's attention with a touch of the knee, a hand at the small of his back, fingers splayed on his forearm.

"There has to be a better system than coming to these things and begging people for research funding," Harry said in a low voice as they entered the main ballroom.

"You and I both know that making people beg for money is a favourite pastime of purebloods," Draco whispered back.

"Yes, I've met your parents," Harry said dryly, and they both caught each other's eye and cracked a smile.

Would it have to be so different if they were actually together? But that thought was interrupted by a donor at his elbow.

"Healer Malfoy. I was hoping to see you again! Your paper on Dragonpox is fascinating. But don't you think anything like Muggle vaccines would be a hard sell to the public?"

Draco turned to Camilla Thiessen. She was dressed, as always, like she had robbed a jewelry store and then one of the peacocks from the Manor for her hat, in heavy diamond gauntlets and collar over gaudy patterned robes. Her eyeliner was caked on and crooked. Draco adored her, if only because she actually read his papers and always came prepared with a question that wasn't about profits.

Draco went into his prepared spiel about preventable deaths and overall healthcare savings, but he kept on eye on Harry who made sure to politely nod while Draco spoke.

"If I understand this would also reduce secondary infections?" Harry interjected when he was done. His expression was so attentive. Draco was aware he practiced most of his speeches on Harry but he never expected Harry to read academic Healer journals.

He recovered in time to say, "Yes. Reducing hospitalization would mean fewer deaths."

"You've convinced me," Mrs Thiessen said.

"I think anyone can be convinced if Draco's doing the talking," Harry offered.

"You're quite right. I should call over Basil, he'll be interested," Mrs Thiessen mused. “Basil!”

There were more and more people to chat with, shake hands with and eventually Harry whispered, "let me get you something to drink."

Draco took the opportunity to take a breather and find one of his colleagues to talk to instead.

"Draco Malfoy, I've been looking for you," Yannick said, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

"How are you finding the event?"

Yannick made a pained expression and leaned in. "Let's just say, a lot of people here think mind healing is a form of advanced coddling and that it would be better if people just toughened up."

Draco laughed.

Harry came back with the champagne, face stormy and back rigid. Draco had only seen his current expression previously during a Quidditch match. Draco must’ve been completely dulled by the sensory processing of being around Harry all the time because he realized three things all at once: One, Yannick was very close and still had a hand on his shoulder. Two, Yannick was kind of hot, objectively speaking. And third of all, Harry was Not Pleased.

"Draco, introduce me."

"This is Yannick from Mind Healing. Yannick, this is—"

"Harry. I'm Draco's date. Pleased to meet you." Harry looked like he had shaken hands just this side of too hard.

"I should have known by the robes," Yannick said, still smiling. Draco was wearing black brocade but the underlayer was definitely a matching emerald green. It wasn't like he had done it consciously. But he liked the way they looked at the last one, Harry in midnight blue with gold stars, Draco in a matching gold just a shade away from gaudy. The picture was still on his dresser.

Merlin, he was so gone over Harry, wasn't he? Had Harry noticed? He had never given any indication it was reciprocal. Or if Harry disapproved of Draco doing that sort of thing.

"If you'll excuse me," Yannick said. And they were left side by side, sipping champagne in silence until the next potential donor came by.

* * *

Having his birthday party at their place was a terrible idea. Draco should have made his excuses and begged to go to a nice restaurant. For one thing, Healers as a group tended to drink too much on nights off. For another, this party also brought the Slytherins around. They declared this his whiskey birthday.

“Whiskey birthday!” Pansy said, handing him a shot. Draco wanted to argue that this was meaningless but imagined her summoning Theo and Blaise as backup so he took it instead, to a chorus of cheers. He was lightly buzzed. Someone turned up the Wireless, and he hoped that the silencing charms held.

He was twenty-four, and this was the best and worst birthday he had ever had.

The best because he was so happy to see everyone: Margaret from Paediatrics, Jim from Intake, most of his year in Spell Damage, some of his unit, all his childhood friends.

The worst, because no matter where he was in their flat, Draco was exactly aware of where Harry was, and he couldn’t relax as long as he was trying not to slip up and do something stupid. Every once in a while, Harry got caught by one of the Slytherins, and Draco could tell they were teasing him. Draco didn’t think anyone would outright tell Harry about his crush, but trying to help was almost certainly worse.

“All I’m saying is that you and I slept together and it didn’t change anything,” Theo said.

“Once. I’m beginning to think that was the highlight of your life by how often you bring it up,” Draco said.

He eventually was caught by Blaise, who corralled him and Harry in the kitchen. Harry bumped Draco with his shoulder, and Draco did it back. It was a friendly thing they did all the time living with each other, but it felt different, electric. He was definitely a bit drunk now.

“The birthday boy is fine. Potter, catch up,” Blaise said. He lined up three shots of whiskey. There was that famous Gryffindor courage, because Harry winked at him and took all three in a row. Blaise clapped him on the back and leaned in to tell Harry something.

Draco was not a jealous person, but he did not like the way Harry smiled at whatever Blaise said. It was no doubt off-colour.

“Leave him alone,” Draco said. Before he thought about it, he hooked an arm around Harry’s shoulder and pulled him closer and away from Blaise. Blaise smirked in a way that said he knew exactly what Draco had been thinking and left.

“Good birthday?” Harry asked. Draco nodded. He was still hanging on to Harry and Harry hadn’t pulled away. The kitchen was quieter now that it was just the two of them somehow.

“Pretty good,” Draco said. He forgot all his defenses against Harry’s closeness now that he was near. He should be used to all of this. Harry’s gaze on him. How naturally affectionate he was with everyone, leaning closer to Draco like it was nothing.

“Happy birthday, Draco,” Harry said. Then Harry reached up and he was kissing Draco carefully, sweetly. Maybe he was reading too much into a single kiss and maybe Harry would regret this tomorrow morning, but it was still Harry nipping at his bottom lip and licking hotly into his mouth.

Draco tasted whiskey and warmth. It was everything he wanted. Better than he had thought. Harry was steady, steadier than Draco who nearly overbalanced himself trying to get closer. Draco pulled away.

“What did Blaise say to you?” Draco said, still curious, mind working over the possibilities.

“Not telling,” Harry said.

“Is this some sort of...” Draco trailed off unsure of how to finish that sentence.

“I’m not going to forget,” Harry said fondly. “Although you’re welcome to remind me tomorrow.” A kiss on the cheek. “And the next day.” Another kiss pressed to Draco’s knuckles with their hands still joined. “Maybe for the next year or so.”

And then Harry was kissing him again and didn't stop when the door to the kitchen banged open.

"Fucking finally!”

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](https://skeptiquewrites.tumblr.com/)


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